


up the hill backwards

by yodepalma



Series: promptio 2017 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Female!Gladiolus, Gender Identity, Misogyny, Other, Pre-Relationship, Questioning, Questioning!Agender!Prompto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: Prompto panics when he accidentally reveals his secret. Good thing his friends will never give up on him.Written for day 3 of Promptio week: betrayal/dessert.





	up the hill backwards

**Author's Note:**

> SOME NOTES. Gladio has always been a cisgender woman here, and Prompto is assigned male at birth but he's still questioning his gender identity. I feel I should preface the story by saying that Prompto's experience coming to terms with his gender isn't universal, but is based on my own experiences.
> 
> Also it's not mentioned in this story, but Ignis is a trans man (though he hasn't come out yet, and his name is Ignissia/Nissy instead of Ignis/Iggy), and everyone else's genders remain as they are in the game.
> 
> Title is from a David Bowie song, because David Bowie.

It’s Gladiola that finds him after he panics and runs off to hide. She has a slice from the cake Ignissia had made for Prompto’s birthday, and she shoves the plate into Prompto’s hands before sitting next to him on the floor. She fishes a fork out of some hidden crevice in her tight pants and sticks it in the top of the cake.

“Noct wanted to come after you himself,” Gladiola says, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I thought he might be a bit much to handle right now.”

Prompto sticks a piece of cake in his mouth so he doesn’t have to say anything, but Gladiola’s right. It’s not that he’s not friends with her _too_ , but he feels panicked at the idea of talking to Noct. Of Noct _hating_ him now that he _knows_.

Prompto really hadn’t meant to tell anyone yet. He was still getting used to things himself, trying to figure out just who he is. Wondering how weird it would be if he wore different clothes, _girl’s_ clothes, and cut his hair into a trendier style.

He probably shouldn’t have put on the nail polish. It’s sparkly and purple and he _loves it_ , but Noct wouldn’t stop teasing him about it until he’d blurted that sometimes he just didn’t feel like a boy. Sometimes he felt like _someone else_. Someone that could wear nail polish and cute heels and not be judged for it.

Of course he could never be that person. He's trapped in the skin that his parents had decided on for him, and he should just give up on wearing the one he’s been discovering for himself.

Gladiola puts a long, muscled arm around Prompto’s shoulders and leans into him. Prompto can smell her shampoo and the flowery lotion she uses every time she washes her hands. He hunches over his cake and tries not to think about it, because it only makes things _worse_. Gladiola is beautiful and smart and _amazing_ , but Prompto is just Prompto. He doesn’t even know how to be _himself_.

“Look.” Gladiola’s voice is soft and serious and _way_ too close to Prompto’s ear. “I can’t say it’s the same thing, but I know what it’s like when people expect you to be somebody you’re not. Do you think it’s _easy_ being the prince’s Shield when you’re a girl?”

Prompto shakes his head and nibbles on another piece of cake.

“It was a scandal when dad started training me to fight like him. Everyone expected me to be like Iris—like our _mom_ —but I couldn’t do it. I’ve always been too much like dad, and I _like_ fighting. I didn’t want to be going to parties and batting my eyelashes at noble men. Especially when I’d just kicked their asses in training the day before. But they said a girl couldn’t handle the job, so they tried to force me into the role they expected. Not that dad was any help getting me to change.”

Prompto manages a weak smile. He can just see Gladiola staring down a crotchety old man, sweating from a workout and casually holding her broadsword in one hand. He doesn’t see what it has to do with _him_ , though.

“Can you see me as a society girl? Those poor men would be _terrified_.” Gladiola snorts, and it occurs to Prompto that he’s _never_ heard Iris do that. It’d never seemed important before, but now he wonders if Iris had trained herself out of the habit because it wasn’t _ladylike_. “You know how many men I’ve made cry when I spar with them?”

Prompto looks up with a frown. “Really? You’ve never made _me_ cry.”

“Well, you’re not exactly a _man_ , are you?” Gladiola squeezes his shoulders and offers him a gentle smile. “Never did have the same effect on women. Or other people.”

Prompto’s eyes fill with tears and he hastily lifts his hand to wipe at them. He doesn’t remember the fork he’s holding until Gladiola snatches it from his fingers.

“S-sorry.” Prompto sniffles and puts the cake on the ground. He doesn’t want to forget and shove _that_ in his eyes too. Gladiola pulls a handkerchief out of her jacket pocket and offers it to him.

Prompto takes it, but he doesn’t use it. “So what’s your point?”

Gladiola ducks her head so she can look Prompto in the eyes. “That I’m not going to up and _abandon_ you while you figure out who you are, Prom. And neither will Noct or Nissy.”

“How do you _know_?” Prompto asks, balling the handkerchief up in his hand. He's holding it so tight his knuckles ache.

“Because they didn’t abandon me.” Gladiola’s smile turns teasing. “And you’ll be adorable no matter what, so it hardly matters what your gender is.”

Prompto blushes and shoves at Gladiola’s shoulder. “Why do you always _say_ stuff like _that_?”

“Because it’s true.” Gladiola grabs his hands and leans in a little closer. “And Noct will agree with me. So why don’t we go back out there before he eats the rest of your cake?”

Prompto swallows against the lump in his throat. “Okay,” he whispers. “Y-you’ll stay with me, right? Even if you’re wrong about Noct?”

Gladiola’s lips brush against his cheek, and Prompto’s heart stutters in his chest. She’s _never_ done that before. “It wouldn’t be right to leave someone as cute as you to fend for themselves.”

“W-why did—” Prompto’s shaky voice catches in his throat. Gladiola’s hands are still wrapped tight around his, and he stares at them so he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“You’re just too cute to resist.” Gladiola gets to her feet and tugs Prompto up with her. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got enough to deal with already.”

Gladiola lets go of his hands and steps away, and Prompto ducks down to pick up his discarded cake. He tries not to think about the kiss, but he can’t _stop_. Does Gladiola _like him_?

He pauses halfway down the hallway and turns to Gladiola. She looks down at him, expectant and patient. Prompto’s fingers convulse around the plate, and he holds it against his chest so he doesn’t drop it. He takes a deep breath. “Um. D-d’you want to get dinner with me tomorrow night maybe? J-just us?”

He’s _never_ seen Gladiola smile so brightly before. “I’d _love_ to.”

**Author's Note:**

> ftr: Gladiola's makeup is _always perfect_ , but she doesn't wear nail polish because it chips too quickly when she's fighting. She also owns a truly spectacular collection of outfits, each one with its own pair of matching shoes. Basically when she's not showing up men during training, she is _aggressively female_ , and if you doubt this she will beat you to death with the stiletto-heeled boot she just yanked off her foot for that very purpose.  
> And, of course, she still has the scar.  
> ...And resting bitch face.


End file.
